The reunion had been planned for what, six months? A weekend away in Chicago, just our tiny group of women and the many hats we pack in our suitcases: chefs and mothers and designers and musicians. And it sounded perfect. Until it didn’t sound perfect, and the days grew closer and the nights grew longer. Bee wasn’t sleeping and work wasn’t working and my brain felt like maybe it was on the fritz. I don’t know about electricity, but like …
11.13.2014 / LIFE
There isn’t a word for the unique brew of abundant scarcity. I feel it always, nearly every day – this wave of everything and nothing at the same time. This perceived abundance of time and moments with the very knowledge that it is passing, right now, this very moment. That the sun outside is sinking and tomorrow it will sink again but a fragment of a moment later, an inch to the left of the horizon and that next week, …
11.12.2014 / FAMILY
We. were. exhausted. The clock’s minute hand pointedly flirted toward the 10pm mark, as if silently sprinkling salt onto the wound of a seemingly never-ending day. Tick. You lost your temper. Tock. Bathtime is going to be a disaster. Tick. Just skip the bubbles tonight. Tock. You’re way off schedule already. It was true. We’d had a busy, frenzied day, the rare kind that leaves you in a tailspin of dropped balls, spinning plates, missed messages. We’d driven many miles, …
11.11.2014 / OTHER
So, surprise! The site’s wearing new clothes, and although I know most of you view this through a feed reader like Feedly or Bloglovin‘ or perhaps an email subscription (each option is still available!), I thought I’d take a second to share with you the impetus for this re-design. The term “lifestyle blogger” has always felt a little funny to me, to be honest. I fell into this job purely through the perfect storm of accidental success, hard work and …
11.10.2014 / OTHER
If you’re ever in the market for a good, melancholy meltdown, turn on a mixed tape from high school. Let the voices of Destiny’s Child or Creed or Matchbox Twenty wash over you and remember it all. Avoid the urge to judge your taste in music; you were young. You were unedited. Understand that everyone listened to bad music in high school because they were raw-hemmed, rough-edged version of themselves (sometimes the best versions of all). Try to remember that …
11.07.2014 / TRAVEL
I’m notoriously bad at taking pause for celebration. I take pause for necessary things – things like rest and rejuvenation, self-preservation and service – but when it comes to a celebratory pause? I don’t know; I hesitate. There’s just always something to do – another project to complete, another email to send, another lesson to learn, and why is the fridge bare yet again?
But this scarf, this design. I knew from the get-go it was bigger than me. I knew it wasn’t about celebrating me or Melissa, Nashville or Ethiopia, screenprinting or weaving, but that it was celebrating the all of it all. The abilities and talents and passions in each of us, and the great, great responsibility that comes with these gifts.
And so, in the spirit of all – of every and each – I flew to Nashville last weekend for an intimate dinner party with a few friends, new and old. There were firepit conversations and cheese plates and women with ideas and voices and love, so of course, you know I had to ask everyone my favorite question.